


AKA Silver Bullet

by Val_Creative



Category: Jessica Jones (TV), Marvel
Genre: Alcohol, Banter, Canon Related, Explicit Language, F/F, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Mutual Pining, Past Suicide Attempt, Protective Jessica Jones, Romance, Season/Series 01, Sexual Fantasy, Touch-Starved, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:14:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28087557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: Trish can still taste the metal.
Relationships: Jessica Jones/Patricia Walker
Comments: 12
Kudos: 41
Collections: Writing Rainbow Silver





	AKA Silver Bullet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [firecat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/firecat/gifts).



*

Trish can still taste the metal.

She swigs down another mouthful of Cabernet Sauvignon red wine. The top shelf bottle kind. One hundred and seventy four dollars for a single glass, and Trish still can't _fucking_ get THE taste of the silvery-tipped bullet out of her _fucking_ mouth.

"Alright, alright," Jessica grouches, yanking away Trish's bottle. "That's enough. You're gonna beat my record at this point."

Trish stares ahead without blinking, reclined out on her apartment's white sofa. Her arms spread out. The tip of her tongue swipes over her chapped, bottom lip, and Jessica's eyes follow it without meaning to. She never means to, Trish supposes.

"I had a bullet in my head," Trish deadpans. Her chest feels numb. Hollowed out.

"In your mouth technically, but yes—you put a bullet in your head, Trish." Jessica says warily, tossing a high heel. "Good job."

"Jess?" 

There's not enough light in Trish's front room. She sees all of Jessica's edges, sharp and soft, and it drives her insane.

"How did you do it?"

She doesn't mean to bring up the rawest sore spot imaginable for Jessica, but now Trish gets it. She gets the legitimate reason why Jessica has been terrified of what the hell Kilgrave can do. Him coming back and coming for people Jessica knows. Trish never doubted Jessica's feelings or her experience about Kilgrave when it was clearly real… she just _didn't understand_. Trish wishes that she didn't understand now.

Jessica flips on a lamp one-handed, glancing to Trish and her red-rimmed eyes. 

"Drinking," Jessica monotones. "So much drinking." She motions to Trish with the red wine bottle and puts it to her grinning lips. Her expression softens as Trish bends over herself to laugh shakily. The heels of Trish's palms wipe off her moistened eyelids.

That hollowed space in Trish's chest… 

It fills with warmth as soon as one of Jessica's hands cradles the side of Trish's face. Her thumb hovers to Trish's cheek-bone. 

Warmth. 

_Warmth_ … and Trish needs so much of it. Getting touch-starved by Jessica, who rarely touches, isn't a favorite pastime.

Jessica looks her over, frowning. "What do you need?"

"An orgasm," Trish admits a little too quickly and too eagerly. "A really good one."

Jessica drops her hand, but there's a hint of slyness in her eyes.

And god, _god_ , Trish would love that. 

Stripping Jessica down, taking her in, _taking_ her, letting her do what she wants to Trish and knowing that Jessica wants it.

Feeling her dark, soft hair tangled up. Feeling how Jessica's breasts shove down against Trish, and the rest of her feeling like an endless, pale heat no matter where Trish goes. Trish wondered before about the emptiness between Jessica's legs. How to suck little bruising marks and kiss-sores on her. How to feel Jessica with something other than Trish's hands, licking and moaning, working on Jessica's clitoris last.

Trish crosses her legs, once again wiping her eyes and ignoring her cunt pulsating in anticipation.

"Hope you've got batteries!" Jessica hollers, popping open Trish's refrigerator in search for a beer on the go.

Trish's mouth quirks.

_"Plenty."_

*


End file.
